


Their Little Secret

by KJES



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feelings, Happy Ending, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24128989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJES/pseuds/KJES
Summary: Harry's thoughts are caught up in his past and his possible future when Hermione stumbles upon him staring into the fire. His emotions become too much and he breaks down, causing emotions to run high.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 117





	1. Fifth Year

**Author's Note:**

> Give it a try - I had loads of fun writing this.

As the fire in the Gryffindor Common room roared with fierce determination to heat the chill in the air, Harry stood before it, silently watching the bright orange embers, lost in his thoughts. It was late, just about to reach the curfew of the castle.  
The fire is the only source of light for the large room, it ricochets off of the red, plush armchairs. The room was bare of students, save for the few third years catching up on their homework for classes the next day. They sat at the back, completely oblivious to the fifteen year old boy standing in front of the fire, deep in thought. The portraits softly whispered to each other, careful not to create too much of a disturbance around the room. 

Honestly, Harry didn’t know how long he had been standing in front of the fire for. He couldn't even remember stopping in front of it. But, that’s where he found himself, head tilted down, emerald eyes unblinking and arms crossed across his chest. A small bandage wrapped around his left hand. He was still in his uniform, although his cloak was thrown carelessly across one of the armchairs. He never bothered to change after a gruelling day of classes. Usually it was potions that was the cause for such thoughts but this year, the Ministry had decided to interfere with the education of Hogwarts students.  
It was a known fact that Dumbledore couldn’t find a replacement for the Defence of the Dark Arts class, given that the positions seemed to be cursed. Only ever holding a teacher for as long as a year before they either died or were cast out.  
So, for the Ministry of Magic, it was the perfect time to plant one of their own into the school. 

Of course, it just had to be one of the most ruthless and unforgiving people in the Ministry to take up the position. Delores Umbridge was known to stick her nose in places where it didn’t belong. In retrospect, she was only there to keep an eye on Harry himself and Dumbledore. Convinced that conspiracies were in the making, convinced that Voldemort had not returned the year before and that it was a plot by Harry and Dumbledore to instil fear into the wizarding population, to create an army. 

As a way of trying to convince the woman who didn't seem to know that any other colour existed except a sickly bright pink, Harry lost his temper in one of her classes and continued to state that Voldemort had indeed returned. It must have been arrogance on her part to completely ignore the evidence that the most evil wizard that once tried to take over wizarding Britain, was alive and breathing.  
Muggle killings, raides on the muggle population, mysterious disappearances. All evidence of an uprising of the dark side and still no one could accept the fact that it was happening. 

So, instead of trying to stop it, the ministry hag, decided to give detentions as punishment for any small thing that she disliked.  
It’s where Harry had just returned from. He had tried to prove that the proof was out there. Cedric, a Hogwarts Champion from the Triwizard Tournament a year before, had died at the hands of a pawn of the evil wizard himself. The traitor to the Potter family was still alive and still serving the Dark Lord, whether that be out of fear or not, Harry did not know. That was just more proof that things were changing in the wizarding world and not for the better, and Harry tried to get her to understand it. To see it. But it was a futile battle. They didn't want it to be true, so in their minds, it wasn’t.  
The bandage around his left hand was the proof that Umbridge was so caught up in her medieval ways. The detention is just another way for her to worm her way into Harry’s life and cause him pain. Cause him to doubt himself. 

It’s where Harry found himself after the detention, in front of the fire, brows furrowed. He had been telling the truth and for his friends and teachers to dismiss his encounter with the Dark Lord as some child trying to grab attention was hurtful and demeaning. Harry didn’t want this life. He didn’t want his family murdered because some megalomaniac decided that a child would cause him harm. It was disillusioning at best. 

Harry was so deep in his thoughts that he missed the door open and slam shut behind Hermione as she walked in with a pile of books trucked to her chest. She looked around the common room to see it empty, seeing feet waddle up the stairs to the third year dormitories. She turned, ready to put the fire out if no one was down to accompany it, when she halted in her movements, eyes landing on her best friend. He looked so peaceful, but as Hermione moved closer, she could see the troublesome look on his face. She made a beeline for him, softly placing the books she had on the table in front of one of the armchairs.  
Hermione stopped on his right and watched as the embers in the fire glowed a bright orange and white. She didn’t need to say anything. There wasn’t anything to say really. Just being there can be the only solace someone needed from another person. 

So she waited. 

Hermione waited for what seemed like an hour but must have only been a few minutes. Harry never moved and Hermione thought that he may have not noticed that she was there. Slowly, Hermione turned to face him, careful not to startle him. She reached up with her left hand and lightly placed it on his right bicep. Harry didn’t move, nor did he react, so with a little guidance, Hermione gently pushed him to turn and face her. He was slowly pulled out of his reverie as his eyes disconnected from the glow of the fire. They made contact with Hermione’s hazel orbs and he smiled. He wasn't surprised to find Hermione the one to pull him out of his thoughts. 

“Hi.” He whispered. Fearing that if his voice was too loud, he could break the moment. 

“Hi?” Hermione whispered back questioningly. “Are you okay?” She still hadn’t removed her hand from his arm and she was quite content to leave it there until she knew her best friend was okay.

Harry smiled down at her, he may have been the same height as his female best friend, but he felt taller. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” Harry puffed out a small breath of air, a light chuckle. 

“You know me too well, Hermione.” 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Hermione frowned. He wasn’t telling her something.  
“I feel...I feel alone I guess. No one believes me-us that the danger is real, and no one is taking it seriously. I feel alone. The only person who I can talk to is Dumbledore and he is on a 24/7 hour watch from the Ministry.” Harry reached up with his bandaged hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. Hermione noticed his hand but knew it wasn’t the right time to discuss it. “I feel so lost.” She almost missed it, he said it so quietly that she had to lean in to hear it. 

Hermione reached up with her left hand and placed on the arm that he had brought up to pinch his nose. “Hey..” She started as she lightly tugged on his arm to move it away from his face. He had his eyes closed, a way for him to hide his true feelings. “Look at me.” He did. The green in his eyes bright with unshed tears. “You are not alone, you hear me.” Her grip tightened, a way to prove it. “I know words don’t mean much, if at all anything, but you are not alone.” Hermione punctuated the last part with a tug on his arms, guiding her own arms up around his neck, pulling him down to her. It took a moment for Harry to react, but slowly, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held on tightly. His chin resting on her shoulder. “You have me. You have Ron, and the rest of the Weasley's. You Have Sirius, Lupin, McGonagall. You have so many people who care for you, who love you, and would do anything for you. You are not alone in this fight, Harry, so stop taking the burden all on your own. Share the weight of the world with me. With the others.” Hermione squeezed tighter, giving him as much comfort as she could. 

Harry squeezed back as tight as he could without causing pain. He took a shaky breath and tucked his face into the crook of her neck. It was odd for both of them. Their friendship had never reached the level where it was normal for them to hug and draw comfort from the other. It was just the way it was. But, for both of them now, it felt right, as if they had always done it and that it wasn’t weird. If it was Ron that Hermione was hugging, she most likely would feel awkward. But for she and Harry, they never found awkwardness with anything. In fact if they thought really hard about it, Harry was the only person who Hermione felt the most comfortable with, except for her parents, but she couldn’t talk about the war with her parents. It had its drawbacks. For Harry it was the same, although he didn't have parents to talk to. Hermione really was the only person he could feel completely comfortable with. 

So he let go. 

Hermione felt warm liquid drip down onto her neck before she realised what it was. Harry was crying. It was the first time that he had truly let go and accepted his emotions. Hermione drew him closer, if that were possible, and Harry did the same. He tightened his grip until it was borderline uncomfortable for them both. 

They stood for a few minutes longer when Harry realised that he must have been standing for a couple hours in front of the fire before Hermione found him, so he felt his legs give out before him as he crumbled to the floor, dragging Hermione with him. She never let go and he never released her. 

They both knelt there, arms wrapped around each other, when Hermione felt his breathing return to a comfortable rhythm. She moved her head off of his shoulder facing the boy growing into a man. She didn’t let go of him, nor did she loosen her hold on him. Harry raised his own head and looked into her eyes. His emerald orbs were still shining, tear tracks drying on his cheeks. 

Hermione released her right arm from around his neck and brought it up to his face, cupping his cheek. Harry leaned into her touch as she wiped away a stray tear with the pad of her thumb. 

This was a dangerous situation for them both to be in. They knew that. They were both teenagers. Things could go badly really quickly or things could change for the better really quickly. It would only take a small movement and everything would change for them. 

They had plans. They were at that age where they had an idea of what they wanted, who they wanted. But, as they looked into each other's eyes, emotions running high, those ideas were quickly squashed the ground as Harry briskly pushed forward and connected his lips to Hermione’s soft pink ones. He knew she didn’t love him back, and she knew that he didn't love her, but he couldn’t resist. He pressed even harder against her lips, causing them to bruise. Merlin, he couldn’t fight against the thoughts that were going through him. Her very smell was flooding his senses now. The smell of Vanilla and parchment hit him so suddenly that it caused him to pull back quickly. He stared into her eyes, looking for any sign from her, anything. But nothing. 

“Sorry.” Harry muttered, unwrapping his arms from around Hermione’s waist and walking towards the boys dormitory. He didn’t look back, it's possible that he had just ruined a perfectly good relationship with his best friend. But, if he did look back he would have seen Hermione had stood up and was stalking towards him. 

Hermione grabbed his right arm and turned him around to face her. She saw the questioning look on his face but completely ignored it as she crushed her lips against his in an equally bruising kiss as Harry had given her. Harry was so surprised that he ended up stepping back and slamming his back against the wall with a small grunt, almost knocking off a portrait of sleeping wizards as he did so, dragging Hermione with him. Thankfully they never awoke. 

Harry came to his senses, realising what was happening and took control. He pushed himself off of the wall, grabbed Hermione’s hips and spun them around, crushing her to the wall. She gasped the impact and gave Harry the opening he was looking for. Harry pressed his tongue into Hermione’s mouth, moaning at the sensation. Hermione reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, playing with the nape of his hair, crushing her body impossibly closer to his. Harry groaned again at the movement.  
It was a sloppy kiss with a strong scent of pumpkin juice intermingling with their breaths which were constant and hurried. Hermione moaned as she arched her back into him. 

Unexpectedly, his hand drifted to her hip and she gasped as his skin made contact with her uncovered hip bone. Her shirt had risen up as a result of their frenzied kissing. 

It was funny, and Hermione was completely unprepared. She would think that after all that time being around Harry and spending time with him - watching him talk, laugh and frown - that she would know all that there was to know about his lips. But she hadn’t imagined how warm they would feel pressed against her own. 

A crash to their left caused them to separate so quickly it was as if they had burned each other. They looked around, thinking they had been caught red handed only to see that they had knocked into a plant pot. It lay on the ground smashed to pieces, the soil splattered around it, the flowers - white daisies - crushed and covered by the soil. 

Harry and Hermione both looked at each other, finally noticing their appearances. Harry’s black hair was tousled and messy, like it had dried without being combed. His shirt was untucked, a couple of buttons undone at the top, and his lips purple from being thoroughly kissed. 

Hermione looked no better. Her hair which she had just learned to contain was also a mess, tendrils folded around each other and frizzy from the heat of their make-out session. Her shirt was also untucked, still revealing a small amount of her stomach, which she quickly tucked back in when she realised that Harry was staring at it. Her lips were also puffy and bruised.  
An experience they would not forget too soon. 

The pair had no expressions on their faces, they didn’t smile or frown, they just looked at each other. 

“Goodnight, Harry.” Hermione quickly said, rushing past him to the girls dormitory across the room, leaving the daisies ignored. Harry watched after her. 

“Goodnight, Hermione.” It was a ghost of a whisper but it was still words he felt he needed to say. He then also ignored the fallen daisies and continued his trip up the boys dormitory. 

As they both laid in their separate beds that night, unable to sleep, they both smiled and shyly hid themselves under their covers.  
They wouldn't talk about what happened. 

It was their little secret.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note - 

Hi guys. Had a couple of good reviews and have wanted me to do more. So I'm now working on follow ups.  
Stay tuned. 

KJES X


	2. Sixth Year

There were moments after that night. Moments that could have changed their minds about it. That kiss meant nothing, but meant everything. Harry and Hermione are both now in their sixth year. School was only getting harder, and there was more pressure. The wizarding world now knows that Voldemort is alive.  
If Harry and Hermione thought about it, they knew it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord made a mistake and revealed himself. Which he did. He let his ego get the better of him and thought he could destroy Harry by possessing him. 

But after finding out about the prophecy, Harry now knew that he had the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, and he had an idea of what the power was. He had everything Voldemort never received. Loyalty, love friendship. Harry was given it, he never had to take it. And that’s where the Dark Lord will fail. He manipulates his followers. He tortures them, bribes them. If only Voldemort had it in him to learn of the failings of past tyrants then he would realise that you cannot force yourself into power. Too many people will fight for their freedom. He will never have the love of the people. Voldemort may not want it, but to succeed, loyalty, love and friendship is everything. 

And now Harry knew that Harry could defeat him. If only he had a little courage in himself.  
There was too much pressure behind being the boy who lived, and Harry could feel that pressure. It was overpowering him. He felt like he wasn't enough. 

It was a fluke that he managed to beat Voldemort that one time in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. It hit him like a wave of clarity as he looked at the people that had surrounded him with love and happiness. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville - all his friends - his family kept him alive, kept him going. And that's what propelled Harry to fight. He beat the Dark Lord that night because of the power of love that he had in his life. 

And he can do it again. 

Now he just had to believe it. 

Harry thought that he knew who the person was that he would want to spend the rest of this life with. She was everything he wanted. Pretty, smart, encouraging...brave. Ginny Weasley was it for him. He had plans. 

But then it happened. 

The kiss between himself and Hermione, changed everything for him. He didn’t know about Hermione, but he was seeing things more clearly. He said to himself when it happened that it meant nothing but meant everything. Now he is starting to think that it just meant everything.  
Hermione might be feeling the same way but he couldn't tell. But, there were moments he would look up and catch Hermione looking at him before turning away. Sometimes he would even catch a slight red tinge to her cheeks. 

Before sixth year, Harry and Hermione were eating dinner with the Weasley’s. It was a couple of days before they were due to start their sixth year at Hogwarts. It was also a few months after ‘it’ happened. So it was still fresh and vivid in their memories. They never spoke of it. They didn’t really need to. They knew that whatever happened then can never happen again and no one could know about it. So, as a result, it was their little secret. One that forever stays that way. But that wasn't to say that they thought about it often whenever they were alone.  
The duo sat at the table in the Weasley’s home, Hermione next to Harry and Ron next to Harry, with the Weasley’s surrounding them. It was a happy time. It may have been difficult the year before. Harry had lost his Godfather, Sirius Black, but Harry knew that he would not want him to wallow in self pity and think of ways that he could have changed what happened. What's done is done and there's no way of changing it. So Harry lived with it and it didn't stop Harry from living happily with his family.  
So he joined in with the laughter at the Weasley table as Fred and George demonstrated whatever magical concoction they had come up with next. 

There were tears of laughter throughout the house as Fred gave some kind of chewy sweet to George, and he ended up sprouting rabbit ears and a pig nose. The laughter only grew as George could only communicate through the language of a cat, making him look incredibly cute. Everyone was so distracted that they didn’t notice that two sounds of laughter had ceased. 

Harry turned to Hermione who was not looking at him but pointedly looking out of the widow opposite her, determinedly keeping her eyes away from Harry.  
Under the table, wake from prying eyes, their hands, Harry's right and Hermione's left had sat idly by on their legs, unmoving, when the joke caused Harry to shake with laughter that his hand brushed Hermione’s. Everything stilled between them. The Weasley’s with their laughter, Ron being the loudest with a barking laugh, drowned out around them. 

Hermione had still committed to staring out of the window, as Harry watched her features. They were unmoving and unrecognisable. Tentatively, Harry moved his hand a fraction further to the right, until it was lying on top of Hermione’s faced down hand. Harry continued to watch her features, but the only movement that gave her away was the opening of her lips in a slight gasp. 

The Weasley’s were still oblivious to the actions of the duo, too caught up with Fred who now looked similar to his twin but with dog ears and a duck's nose, so Harry tightened his hold on Hermione’s hand and was surprised that she was turning it around to lace their fingers together. 

They didn’t know what they were doing, they didn't know why they were doing it, but they couldn’t seem to stop. 

Hermione still made no movement to remove her eyes from the window and Harry was quite content to keep his hand where it lay and watch her. Things are changing for the both of them and they are not ready.

For teenagers it was confusing thoughts. And those confusing thoughts led to struggles.  
One of them struggles being the Weasley’s. Harry wants Ginny and Hermione, he thinks, wants Ron. It was perfect. Safe. But maybe they were just childish thoughts in the middle of a war and they had subconsciously decided that it wasn’t worth the risk between them. 

That had to be it. Wasn’t it? 

They didn’t know. It was all too confusing. 

Harry and Hermione suddenly separated at the sound of a coughing fit at the end of the table. Ron had decided to speed through his food and choked on a potato that he hadn’t chewed correctly. It was a common thing for him but everyone laughed anyway. 

Harry turned back around to Hermione to find she was no longer there. He looked around and found her retreating back walking around the corner. He didn’t follow. Harry wouldn’t know what to say if he did. 

That was just one moment and the year hadn’t even begun.

The next moment was just after one of Slughorn’s monthly Slug Club dinners. Horace Slughorn was still up to his old tricks trying to find important Wizards and Witches that would make the cut when it came to him finding out information. He was a slimy bastard but Dumbledore had given Harry the job of finding out information from Slughorn himself. Harry was finding it quite the difficult task. 

The dinner itself was a rather boring affair, the usual chit chat of how classes are going and what the parents are doing - obviously, Harry felt out of place - but he stayed. He had a job to do. It was after the dinner when Harry walked back to the Gryffindor common room with Hermione at his side.

They were quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. They were just comfortable being in each other's presence. Neville, who was one of the regular Slug Club attendees, was walking up just ahead of them, so it wasn’t like they could do or say anything about what was going on between them. They were content as it was. 

As they reached the portrait door, they let Neville in first before Hermione started to follow. Before she could fully step through, Harry grabbed her wrist and halted her movements. Hermione stopped and turned to face Harry, stepping back towards him with a question on her lips. 

“We need to talk, Hermione.” Harry answered her question before she could utter it. 

Hermione just smiled and walked closer towards him, placing both of her hands on his shoulders and whispered, “Not tonight, Harry.” Before she leaned forward and softly kissed his cheek, lingering just a bit longer than necessary. She then disappeared through the portrait door, leaving Harry to his thoughts. He eventually did follow but they never did end up having that conversation they so desperately needed.  
The next and final one of the year was a memorable one to say the least. It was a moment that really changed everything. Where they finally admitted that they had been fooling themselves. They didn't admit it to each other, no that would be too much too fast. The war was fully raging outside and they wouldn't let their feelings get in the way. They still couldn't tell if it was in the moment feeling or this is it for them. Are they ‘it’ for each other.  
They had to be certain and by doing that they had to let it be. 

They had just won the quidditch match, therefore winning the quidditch cup for the year. Excited yells could be heard in the dungeons all the way from the Gryffindor common room if only someone decided to listen to it. The party was in full swing. Butterbeer was passed around with the occasional snuck in fire whisky. Couples snogging in corners, thinking they were out of view but really in full view. Nearly every person in the room was singing - more like shouting - the ‘Weasley is our King’ song. It was dreadful, but it was also heartwarming to see everyone come together for something so trivial. 

Harry and Hermione watched on as everyone congratulated the team, especially Ron, who had saved the goal that could have lost them the game. It was a spectacular scene, one that Ron would never forget. He was finally getting some attention that didn’t involve the Boy-Who-Lived. It was horrible to think, but he needed something of his own and quidditch gave him that. He was completely distracted as Lavender Brown, a resident Gryfindor, grabbed his shirt and smashed her lips against his. Ron never noticed Hermione disappearing into the shadows and out of the common room. 

But Harry did. So...he followed. 

It wasn’t difficult to find her. He could hear her soft sobs coming from down the stone steps. It was difficult to hear someone you loved - whether that be friendship or love...love - cry. It was heartbreaking. Especially for Harry, who had no idea how to deal with it. 

He found her sat on the bottom step, hugging her knees to her chest. Tentatively, he sat down next to her and reached for one of her hands, grasping it in one of his own. They sat for a moment in silence, sobs from Hermione, being the only thing to break it. It was only a few moments before Hermione sat up straight, wiped her tears away and smiled over at Harry who had a very concerned look on his face. 

“I’m okay, Harry.” She said answering his unasked question. “I just...I saw it and thought are we,” she paused and looked over to Harry, hazel eyes meeting emerald, she sighed, “are we ever going to get that? A chance to have a silly teenage romance?” Harry was still frowning, he didn’t understand. Hermione can have a silly teenage romance, it was only him that couldn’t for fear of putting that person at a high risk from an attack from Voldemort. Hermione noticed his silence. “Silly isn’t it? Look at me.” She huffed out a laugh. “Acting like a teenage girl.”

“But you are a teenage girl, Hermione.” 

“I can’t have that, Harry, and I accept that. I just had a moment where I wanted to cry at the thought that would never have that.” 

“What makes you think you can’t have that?” Maybe it was a stupid question. Either way it made Hermione laugh. 

“Because we are in a war, Harry!” Hermione replied exasperated. “At the very centre of it. Ron can get away with whatever it is that he is doing up there,” she gestured up the stairs where Harry gave a brief glance, “because we - me and you - carry the burden just that little bit more than he does. Sure! He knows what is at stake but he doesn’t take it as seriously as us. I can’t lose you Harry.” She stated, turning her body to fully face him, placing her hands on his shoulder, staring into his eyes with determination. “And so I must help you defeat him. Destroy Voldemort. It is the only way that we will be able to get any kind of normal life, silly teenage romance. I can’t lose you to him Harry. So, I am giving that up to help you.” She said defiantly. 

“But I want you to have a normal life, Hermione.” He didn’t know how much she was giving up for him and it hurt. He couldn’t let her do it. “The war is getting worse, and yes, you are in the middle of it, but you don't have to be, you can leave. Leave it to me to figure it out. I want you to survive.” He grabbed a hold of her cheeks in the palms of his hands, firm but soft. “I need you to survive.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, Harry Potter, and if you try to push me away after everything we have been through, I will never forgive you.” It wasn’t a romantic statement, but it said so much, with so little words. He and Hermione had been through so much together, stuck by each other no matter what. Harry was incredibly stupid to suggest that she leave and he knew it. 

They went silent. The argument was over. Hermione won, she always did, and she knew it she smiled a goofy smile that was so stunningly beautiful that Harry was taken aback by his thoughts.

“What?” Hermione frowned. She squealed as Harry didn’t answer and instead crashed his lips against hers, moaning at the contact. Hermione was so startled that she didn’t react. Harry sensed it and started to pull away, but crushed himself against her as Hermione grabbed a hold of his shirt and pulled him towards her. The force of it pushed her back and she ended up laying on the floor with Harry on top of her.  
The contact of the cold stone floor made her squeak again and she pulled away, looking up into his eyes. The swirls of emotion she saw there made her gasp. Lust and desire. However, before Hermione could ponder it any further, Harry sat up, grabbed her by her jumper and yanked her towards him. Their lips crushed together once again and it felt like they were floating in air. It was magic, the way that his lips fitted so snugly against hers. His mouth was warm and the caress of his lips softer than Hermione could have ever imagined. So soft that she ended up moaning. 

Harry stilled.  
“What are we doing, Hermione?” Harry exclaimed, standing up and pushing himself away from Hermione, stumbling to the opposite wall. “I know that something has changed between us, but what are we doing?” 

Hermione slowly stood and looked at Harry. “I don’t know, Harry.” Hermione said, “It’s nice though, isn’t it?” Harry frowned. “Did you not feel like all your worries evaporate like a summer shower on a hot car?” 

“We can’t do this Hermione. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because if this happens...if this evolves…” He answered, gesturing between the two of them. “He’ll come after you. I can’t put you through that.” Hermione started walking towards Harry, but he stood his ground. “I can’t, Hermione. Not yet.” Hermione paused in her steps, a meter away from him. 

“Okay.” Harry frowned. He thought she would fight. “Just once.” Harry then realised that that was her fight as she lunged for him and pressed herself against him, smashing her lips against his in a bruising snog. Harry didn’t fight, but instead grabbed a hold of hips, much like their first kiss, and spun them around until her back slammed against the wall that he had previously leaned against. 

“Just once.” Harry repeated, leaning back to cup her face in his hands. He leaned down and softly kissed the tender area at the base of her neck. Hermione’s body went rigid with surprise at the tenderness that Harry showed. Who knew he could be soft? Hermione was breathless with delight as he showered her with gentle, soft kisses, each with its own flicker of warmth. Harry leaned back and took a moment to look at her as she gazed up at him. “Just once.” He repeated, placing his hands back on her waist, as he spent a moment studying her face, he then tilted his head to the side and kissed her, his lips demanding. Hermione felt a smouldering heat deep within her as Harry’s grip tightened around her waist, crushing her body to his, gentle yet firm. He tilted his head further, deepening the kiss, causing Hermione to moan. Harry smiled into the kiss, an experience he won’t forget any time soon. Harry felt her hands brush up his chest to his neck to play with the ends of his hair. A smile grew on his face as it started to tickle. Finally they pulled apart, gasping for air. Harry’s kiss stole the words Hermione didn’t need to say. In that silence all their secrets were laid bare, all of their missions and the spark of love that existed between them. In that moment, in their mutual love for each other - platonic or not - they were strong. One kiss and they felt like they had the courage to do what needed to be done. 

To finally end the war. 

But for now, it was their little secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Ill either do one more or two more chapters. I'm not entirely sure yet. 
> 
> Let me know know what you think.
> 
> Thank you! x


	3. Seventh Year Pt. 1

It was still another year before they were anywhere near the end of the war. It’s possible they still had many months to go. You can’t predict the end of the war anymore than you can predict when one will start. It all comes down to actions, and those actions cause a domino effect. An action leads to another, to another, to another and finally to a conclusion. 

The Golden Trio had been travelling for months, searching for artifacts that they had no idea what they looked like, what they were or where they were. A ghost search at best. 

They had one object. One artifact that proved that there were more. But it was dangerous. It fed off of their emotions causing anger and frustration. Little things causing destructive behaviour. 

The latest event was Ron. He had been wearing the locket - the artifact - sat around his neck for what may have been about a week. He was doing okay. They were all doing okay. But the frustration of not getting anywhere with their hopeless mission caused Ron to have a meltdown. It was ugly, and he blames Harry for all of it. 

“We are stuck!” Ron shouted. “We have no leads! No hope! Yet, you still sit there on your arse.” Ron was furious, and Hermione actually had to cower away from him for fear of being attacked, verbally or physically, she couldn't be sure. 

“Ron, take the locket off. Please.” Hermione pleaded with him. Ron snapped the chain from around his neck and threw the locket in her direction. He felt better, they could see it in his face, but the pent up frustration was too much and it overpowered his emotions that were called the range of a teaspoon as a joke but beginning to seem true. 

“I’m leaving.” Ron stated, facing Harry, who said and did nothing. “I’m going home. Away from this mess.” Ron then turned to Hermione. “Are you coming?” 

“How can you even ask that, Ronald?” Hermione exclaimed. “I’m not going anywhere.” She continued defiantly, “but by all means, you run along to mummy and daddy, have a warm home cooked meal and leave your best friends to finish this war. It’s not like you haven't left us - left Harry before.” Hermione finished her rant, red in the face and her breathing erratic. If you looked closely enough you could see her nostrils flare ever so slightly. 

Ron never replied, but instead grabbed his bag and stormed out of the tent flap. He would be back, Harry and Hermione both knew it. He always came back, but when, was the question.

Hermione slumped down onto the step that she had climbed on to make her feel more superior with the slight height difference. Her posture lost its structure as she collapsed within herself. She didn’t cry. She was too exhausted to do so, and she wasn’t upset at the fact that he left, she was just drained, emotionally, physically, mentally, and all of the in-between. The war was getting to them. 

“He’ll come back, you know?” Harry started as he walked over and sat next to Hermione on her left. “He always does. He only ever leaves when things get tough. Which I can’t fault him for. I would...if I could. But, this seems to be my fate, so i’m stuck.” 

“Yeah...I know.” Hermione started, “I just wish he had more willpower to stay when things get as tough as they are, and it’s our fate, Harry.” Harry just smiled down at her

“You know…” Harry said, “You are my constant, Hermione. You've never left my side, better yet, you’ve never wanted to. I cherish that, and I don’t take it for granted.” Harry sighed, “What I am trying to say is...thank you, for always being there and for always believing that I can do it.”

Hermione frowned but stayed silent for a moment longer, trying to find the right words to say. “You don’t have to thank me, Harry. I’m staying with you because I love you.” He froze at the words but Hermione took no notice of it. “You are my best friend and I can safely say that you are also my only constant in my life.” Hermione nudged him slightly at the statement. “I have my parents, but they travel a lot for business. Opening new dentistry buildings can take up a lot of time.” She chuckled and took his hand with her left, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly. “I love them to pieces, but you are the one I seek when I need to talk, when I need to feel secure.” She paused. “Odd isn’t it?”

“What is?” 

“How we never actually talk.” Hermione said, “But that was never needed with us was it? Just being there for each other was all that was needed. Like now.” Harry nodded agreeing. It was true. They may have seeked each other's comfort at times but it was never about physical contact. They found comfort in the little things of just being in each other's presence, talking about school, studying. It was the little things that count and always had. 

They didn’t say anything more on the subject but Harry knew that it was the end of the conversation anyway. With a sigh, he shuffled to stand up, but before walking away, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss to the crown of Hermione’s head, lingering just slightly. Hermione sighed in content, wishing for a different scenario for this to be in. 

“Tea?” Harry asked against her head. Hermione nodded against his lips in confirmation. 

It was quiet for the next few days. Still no leads and still no news. Ron had still not returned and the frustration had now been passed to Hermione. She wore the locket around her neck, a way to keep it safe. But, it had its drawbacks. She was angry. Angry at Ron leaving, at Voldemort, at the situation that fate had put Harry in. Angry at everything wrong in the world. 

As she paced around the small living space in the tent. Thoughts ran through her mind. Thoughts about what she could have done in the past to change the present. 

Harry watched from a distance, sat on one of the cots that they use to sleep in, or at least try to sleep in. it was silent in the living space, save for the soft footsteps of his best friends pacing.  
Harry frowned, he couldn’t watch Hermione do it anymore. She needed to relax. 

Looking over to the table on his left, he noticed the radio that they had deliberately turned off. It was too depressing listening to the names of the latest victims of the war. Standing up, Harry made his way to the radio and turned it on. There was a bit of static at first, but he fiddled around with the antenna for a moment until he heard the faint sound of a song playing. Harry recognised it immediately and smiled, swaying slightly on the spot.  
He turned to face Hermione who was still pacing, oblivious to the music softly filling up the silence in the living space. Harry smiled again, an idea forming.

Turning up the music just a fraction, he placed the radio back on to the table and turned back around to Hermione. Slowly, he took a step towards her and after a couple more steps, he stood near her ready for her to turn back around and pace right into him. To his luck, she did. Hermione walked right into him, and she startled out of her reverie. She didn’t say anything and nor did he, and she watched as he brought his hands up to her neck, reaching for the locket that sat there. He unclasped it and carelessly chucked it behind him. 

“Better?” Harry asked. Hermione nodded, relieved that the pressure of the locket had disappeared. They didn’t communicate any further, the two were so attuned together that there was no need for it. It was all in the eyes. 

Harry reached for both of Hermione’s hands and grasped them tightly rocking himself and forcing Hermione to rock with him. She just watched, unmoving. Not motivated to give in to the silly antics of her best friend, but she did smile.  
Eventually she did pull and push at his hands, joining in with the slow swaying of their arms. Suddenly, Harry belted out the chorus to the song that was still playing on the small radio. Hermione burst out in laughter, having to let go of his hands to clutch at her stomach. She watched, still laughing as Harry took no notice of Hermione and spun around in circles, still shouting the lyrics to the song out of tune. 

A moment like this was needed in a time of war. The little things can change everything. A smile here and there. A laugh. A joke. It can cause happiness in a time of sadness and that is exactly what had happened. 

Harry, who was still oblivious to Hermione watching him, was surprised when he felt Hermione jump on top of him from behind, her legs wrapping around his legs and arms tightly around his neck, keeping herself up. Harry stumbled but he caught himself and laughed, grabbing a hold of Hermione’s legs to keep her stead, before spinning them around in circles with continuous laughter. 

It only lasted a few minutes, but it was enough to lift their spirits just slightly. 

As the music died down, Harry slowly stopped swaying. Hermione released her legs from around his waist and stood behind him. Hermione guided her hands from his neck, down his back to wrap around his waist, hugging him from behind. She placed her head on his back and sighed in content.  
Small, needed moments between them. 

Harry grabbed a hold of her hands that sat low on his waist, squeezed them tightly before bringing them up to his chest. The soft rhythm of his heartbeat, securing Hermione’s fears of him disappearing, just for a moment. They stood for a few moments, happy to just be there, relishing in the fact that they were still alive. 

Their plans for themselves changed dramatically the year before. Their kiss, their talk, established a common ground between them. They no longer wanted what they thought they wanted but now wanted what was right in front of them. It was a dramatic change for them both but they both knew that it was everything to them. Love - true, pure love - doesn’t come around often, and they had found it between each other. They hadn’t spoken about love, if it was love, but again, they didn't need to. They had an idea. But as they stood there holding each other. Thoughts occurred and tension rose high. 

“You know…” Harry started, “I think - I think I may - I might love you.” He whispered the last part in a hurry but it was so silent in the forest and inside the tent that Hermione heard it so clearly that he may as well have shouted it. She stilled. “I mean...I don’t really know what love is. I see it everyday. I see it with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. And as uncomfortable it is to say it, I even saw it with the Dursleys.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. Hermione didn’t speak. Didn't move. “I see it with Fred and George, Ginny and Ron, and I know that that is sibling love but what I feel for you, can’t be that. It can’t be.” Harry let go of Hermione’s hands and spun around in her arms, facing her, his eyes connecting with her soft hazel ones, brimmed with unshed tears. “I can’t be.” He repeated, lifting his hands to cup her cheeks. “Because siblings don’t kiss, not like we have, and I really badly want to kiss you right now.” 

For a moment they just stood there. The fact that one kiss at the age of fifteen could change everything was crazy and now, here they were, trying to decide if it was worth the risk. 

Hermione took half a pace backwards before changing her mind and taking a full pace forwards right into Harry’s arms, tightening her arms around his waist. “I really, really want to kiss you too, Harry, and I think I may just love you too.” Harry smiled at the declaration. “But, we spoke about this. You said it yourself. It’s risky and dangerous and life threatening to just be near you. To be something more...is a potential death sentence.” Harry nodded in understanding, releasing Hermione’s cheeks and turning to walk away. Hermione let him go. 

They said what they needed to say. They both knew now that they wanted more from each other. It was tricky, and it was messy. A wish for a normal life, for a normal romance was disillusionment from them both. But, you can’t help who you fall for and so they have to pay the price of wanting but never getting until the time was right. 

That night, the forest was covered in a thick layer of snow and the sound of soft hoots from Owls filled the silence. It was chilly and the thin blanket that Harry had to cover himself did nothing to help against the bitter air. He lay in one of the cots in the living space, it was barely big enough for, his toes peeking out over the end, his head squashed at the top near the headboard. Hermione was next to him, in her own cot, she too, having the same problem of the cot being too small for her. 

Harry looked over to his best friend, she seemed to be asleep, but she was just laying there, keeping an eye out for any trouble. The first watch of the night. Hermione didn’t acknowledge that Harry had watched her for a moment. It was too risky. She knew that the moment she turned to face him, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. 

For a few moments, Hermione just laid there. Not making a sound, not making any movements and just listened to Harry as he tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to keep warm. It was futile and they both knew it. They've tried too many times. 

Eventually, Hermione gave up. The tossing and turning was distracting and it seemed like it was going on forever. Slowly she sat up and hooked her legs over the edge of the cot. She sat there, watching him, waiting for him to stop for just a brief moment. Which he did seconds later. 

Quickly, Hermione stood up and took the one step to Harry. He froze as her hand made contact with his shoulder but relaxed when he saw it was Hermione. 

“What are-” He was cut off as he grunted when Hermione climbed over him, putting pressure on his shoulder, squashing him to the cot. 

“Sorry.” She muttered as she settled in next to him. Harry said nothing, instead lifting his head up and placing his right arm under her head. She can use it as a pillow that way. His left was placed on her waist lightly. He was too nervous to tighten it. He was conflicted, deciding between leaving it or tightening it so Hermione made the decision for him, grabbed it and pulled it snugly around her.

Finally, Harry stilled and drifted off to a peaceful sleep with the smell of Vanilla drifting from Hermione’s hair. Before long his arms relaxed around her. When his breathing slowed and became a steady rhythm, she slowly moved her left hand from where it was placed on top of Harry’s and her waist, and guided it to his right that was splayed out in front of her face. She carefully guided it along his forearm to lace their fingers together.  
It wasn’t too long before she, too, found herself snoozing. She was still awake. Just relaxed. She’d sleep later. 

The hours flew by, and that is surprising considered Hermione didn’t actually sleep. She was content to stay where she was but one shift of her hips and she found herself uncomfortable. Pulling her hand away from where she had intertwined their fingers the night before, Hermione slowly and carefully spun around to face Harry. He was still asleep and he looked incredibly peaceful.  
Hermione watched him sleep for a couple of minutes, relishing in the fact that she had never seen him look so peaceful. It was few and far between that he would get a good night's rest.  
As she watched him sleep, her eyes glanced over his face. He had no wrinkles in his brows and no frown upon his lips. Hermione took a moment to study the scar that rested upon his forehead. It was slightly covered by his shaggy hair so reaching up with her right hand she brushed his unruly hair backwards, using the pad of her thumb to stroke the scar. Mimicking a lighting bolt as she did so. 

It was torture for Hermione to see a soul so pure and light be constantly tortured from his past, from his possible future and she couldn’t help wondering that this was the last time she would be able to study him, fully. So, she took him in. inhaled his scent. Memorised every detail of his face from the rosy cheeks to the specs of freckles dusting his nose. 

As she studied him, it twisted her heart up like a soaked rag; her ribs felt like they constricted with the little air she was breathing in. A yearning so pure for the man before her swept her up like an ocean current, taking her breath away. 

She didn’t realise that tears had escaped her, until she heard the near silent ‘plop’ when they hit the pillow beneath her. She looked down at the wet patch on the pillow before returning her eyes back to Harry’s face, only to silently gasp when her eyes connected to his bright emerald iris’. 

“Hi.” Harry sighed in his usual grouchy morning voice. Hermione didn't reply, but instead, leaned forward and brushed her lips to his scar, lingering for just a moment before pulling back. 

Harry closed his eyes at the sensation of her cool lips hitting his skin. “No one has ever done that before.” He started, opening his eyes to reconnect with hers. “It was soothing. Can you do it again?” He whispered, and she did. Hermione returned her lips to his scar and put a little more pressure behind it. When she pulled back she noticed a slight shine to his cheeks and realised that he was also tearing up. Without thinking about the aftermath, without thinking of the repercussions, Hermione crushed her lips against Harry’s, wrapping her arms around his head, pulling him impossibly closer. 

Harry moaned as Hermione pulled him closer. So close that he ended up rolling on top of her. 

His lips felt so gentle and warm, she felt her hands begin to slide down from on top of his head and encircle his neck, as the kiss began to grow heavy. Harry hand moved from where it lay by her head down to her waist and gripped her soft skin that was covered by a large t-shirt. Hermione continued to kiss him hungrily, leaving her worries behind her, wanting more. She felt herself being crushed to the small cot as Harry pressed his body upon hers.  
The kiss goes on, their lips in perfect sync and the kiss becomes more passionate by the second. 

Hermione’s right hand flew from around his neck to his waist, grasping at the shirt that was in the way, ripping it off. Their lips parted for a brief second and clasped onto one another once again with an adding of more pressure. Harry’s hand slid from her waist, finding its way to Hermione’s left wrist, grasping it and continuing it’s trek above her head, where he pinned it against the pillow. Their kiss grew more greedy, her mouth pushing against Harry’s with more pressure.  
The heat flowed throughout Hermione’s body as she felt Harry’s hand slide under her shirt, brushing the skin of her waist, guiding it up to reveal her stomach. 

Reluctantly, Hermione removed her lips from Harry’s, “Wait,” She whispered, placing a hand on his chest to stop him from advancing forward. “Once we go there, Harry, once we are that intimate, I'll be in love with you. So, for my own sake, I need you to feel the same, that this is something you want, that you’ll keep me, that you want me to keep you.”

Harry leaned back onto his knees and looked down at his hands in his lap. He signed, “I want you, Hermione. I love you. But, as I said before, I don’t know what love is. I can’t give you all that you ask for. But I can promise you, that after this war. If I defeat him and I survive, you are all I want.” Harry looked up as he finished, looking at Hermione, noticing that was leaning on her elbows. “You are it for me.” He whispered, “But...I need to finish this war before I commit to you. You are too important to me to put you through that.”

“You are it for me too, Harry.” Hermione whispered her reply, sitting up and taking his face in her hands. “And you will survive.” She leaned her forehead against his, sighing. “Let's forget everything for tonight. Forget the war, forget the pain. Let’s just be us, for one night. Relish in a teenage romance for the night, because I love you and I want you.” 

Harry nodded against her forehead and connected his lips once again to hers, pushing her back down onto the cot. 

And so they let themselves go for the rest of the night, ignoring the worries of the war, ignoring the fears of the future. 

But they never spoke about what happened that night. They knew that they would be together one day. If that’s tomorrow, or next month, or in a year, they would wait. 

But for now, it was their little secret.


	4. Seventh Year Pt. 2

The final battle was finally upon them. They had found the Horcruxes in due time, although it took what felt like years, and if you count the diary in second year, they had really been searching, unknowingly, for six years. They had two left to find. Nagini, Voldemort’s snake, was the only one that they knew for sure, was another. Harry had an inkling to what the other might be, it was the only thing that made sense for himself to be a Horcrux.  
It may have been accidental when Voldemort created it, but it still had a likely probability that he was inhabiting a seventh of Voldemort’s soul. 

After the gruelling mind invasion from Voldemort himself against everyone in the vicinity of Hogwarts, Harry found himself wandering around the destroyed halls of it’s walls. He was stuck in his thoughts once again, Harry had just witnessed memories through a pensieve. Severus Snape’s memories to be exact.

Snape was an incredibly misunderstood person. No one liked him, and he didn’t like anyone in return, and the reasons for it were unclear. For Harry, it was because of his father, which makes sense because in his early school years, James Potter was a bully. But the reason behind all the hatred, was because Severus Snape was in love with the woman James had married, Lily Potter.  
Harry Potter ended up being the spawn of a swine, as Snape had called him, himself. 

But, now Snape was dead. 

And all that was left of his, was a memory that completely changed Harry’s view of his late professor. 

At the end of the day, Snape had protected Harry. In ways that made no sense and in ways that risked his life. Harry owed it to him, and to everyone on the side of the light, to win the war. To defeat Voldemort once and for all, and if that meant sacrificing himself, then that was the way it had to be. 

As Harry stumbled down the blood soaked, covered in rubble staircases, he came across the sight of his two best friends sitting at the bottom. Hermione had her head on Ron’s shoulder and Ron had wrapped his left arm around her. The sight caused Harry to stop, a pang of jealousy ran through him like a hot knife. He watched on and thought of the possibility of different circumstances leading then to fall for each other. The what if’s of Voldemort not existing, and him not meeting the pair, Hermione especially. Ron was a good friend but Hermione was the one he would confide in if he had trouble with anything. 

He halted his thoughts. Just thinking of those possibilities would haunt him for days. 

Forcing himself to take a step forward, Harry continued his trek towards them. 

Hermione looked up at the sounds of footsteps behind them, wand at the ready to defend herself from an attack, but dropped it at the sight of her best friend bloodied and bruised. Her wand clattered to the floor as she ran up the stairs two at a time, flinging herself into the awaiting arms of her best friend.  
“I thought you left already.” Hermione sighed into the crook of his neck. Harry squeezed her tightly. 

“I’m leaving now.” There was no room for argument and Hermione knew it. “I think we have known for a while that it is what's needed to be done.” Harry lifted his head to place his chin on Hermione’s shoulder, “There’s a reason I can hear them, the Horcruxes.” Harry looked over to his red headed best friend. “It needs to happen this way.” The look on Ron’s face was unreadable, but Harry could tell that the revelation had hit him hard. 

Ron gave a slight nod towards Harry, a simple gesture of acceptance and that was all Harry needed for him to welcome his fate. A runaway tear slipped down Harry’s cheek as he returned his head to hide in Hermione’s shoulder. 

“I’ll go with you.” She whispered, placing a soft kiss to his pulse point. Harry squeezed tighter. 

“No.” He said firmly, with just the slightest shake to his voice. Barely noticeable. “Kill the snake.” He took a breath. “Kill the snake and then it’s just him.” Hermione whimpered and continued to kiss the same spot on his neck. “Hermione…” Harry whispered, relaxing his hold around Hermione’s waist. “Hermione, I have to go.” Hermione only whimpered again, but this time brought her face up to look into his eyes. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Harry whispered, placing his forehead against hers. “I love you too.” and then he placed his lips upon hers. 

It wasn’t forceful, and it wasn’t passionate. It wasn’t romantic but it definitely held truth, love and power. 

The tender touch of their lips made the room disappear around them. They held it for a few seconds, before their lips began to move in perfect sync, slowly, cautiously. They exhaled through their noses, not ready to let go. Harry’s hand moved from where it had placed it on her hip to her cheek, pulling her in closer, and then guiding up to her head, fingers tangling in her long, chocolate coloured hair. Pressing just a fraction closer to add pressure to Hermione’s lips, deepening the kiss. Hermione whimpered once again, her tears falling upon their lips. The salty taste was unnoticed by the couple. Hermione grabbed a hold of the old brown jacket that Harry wore and twisted it in her hands, an attempt to drag him closer. 

Their moment only lasted a minute before reality came rushing back. Slowly, Harry softened the kiss and pulled back, keeping his forehead connecting with Hermiones. “Kill the snake.” He whispered once again, “I love you.” Then he let go, walking past Hermione and not looking back. Harry walked up to Ron, stopped at his side, lifted his right hand to place it on the red head's shoulder before squeezing it tightly. “Keep yourselves safe.” Was all he said. Harry sensed that Ron had nodded and let go, continuing to walk down the stairs, ignoring the call of his name from Hermione.  
He never looked back once and if he did he would have seen Hermione being held back by Ron. An attempt to keep her safe, just as Harry had asked him to do. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A couple of hours had passed and still no news had reached the survivors of the final battle. Countless lives had been lost in just a short period of time, and it only just added the torment of the day. The lack of news, the lack of knowing was traumatic. 

Was he dead? 

Is it over? 

Have they lost? 

Questions ran through Hermione’s mind in rapid succession, as she sat in the Great Hall, looking upon the piled up bodies of the deceased. The possibilities are too great, The what if’s too varied. 

It is a very likely possibility that she had just lost the person she loved most, and she was in despair. Constant tears flowed from her eyes, soaked up by the ripped and blood soaked jeans that she wore. Ron sat next to her, a hand placed softly on her shoulder, giving the small amount of comfort that he was able to give. He couldn’t make sense to the situation that was thrust upon him from his two best friends. He knew they were close, but he couldn’t comprehend the possibility of them being together. It was too surreal. But, as their best friend, Ron committed himself to be there for them, no matter what the outcome was. Or at least be there for Hermione.  
The lack of news had also hit Ron hard, in that second he could have lost his best friend, and he wouldn't know until Voldemort himself turned up. 

Ron’s fears came true as a shout from the Great Hall stilled them in fear. 

“THEY’RE HERE!” Small gasps and quiet screams littered the silent Hall like an explosion. In seconds, everyone began rushing out to the courtyard in piles. People tripped over feet, rubble, debris, Death Eater bodies that had been left to rot like their soul. Everyone wanted to know the answer. 

Had they won?

Or, had they lost? 

As they all slowed their speed to a walk in the courtyard, they could see the figures of Death Eaters walk the bridge that disconnected the Hogwarts Castle from the mainland. 

They had lost.

It was a simple realisation. The Death Eaters would not have walked to the castle if they had lost. They would have scrambled away and hidden. Cowards.  
But they lost, and the survivors could see that clearly as they all took a step back in fear of the figure that led the enemy. 

It took what felt like hours before the Death Eaters congregated in the courtyard, surrounding the students, professors and Aurors, but as they stopped still, Hermione could see Hagrid step towards the front of the crowd across from them. She gasped and let several tears fall as she grabbed a hold of Ron, who stood beside her. He looked at her, then followed her gaze to what she was looking at and also gasped at the sight before them. 

Harry, their best friend, hero, champion, lay motionless in Hagrid’s arms. 

“Harry Potter is dead.” Voldemort cackled. But the next few moments were lost to Hermione as all she could do was stand there and stare at the man she loved lay still. 

She only just registered Draco Malfoy moving towards the enemy, fear in his features. 

She only just noticed Neville wander to the front of the crowd and pull out the Sword of Gryffindor from the sorting hat. A true Gryffindor. 

But she gasped and gripped Ron even tighter as she witnessed the man she loved dive to the floor. Everyone ran for cover as spells ricocheted off the castle walls. But she stood stark still. Mesmerised. 

He was alive. 

She watched as Draco Malfoy ran from the enemy side towards her. “POTTER!” He shouted, tossing his wand to the boy in question, who caught before firing a spell at the snake. 

“The snake!” She remembered, shrieking as Malfoy barrelled into her, a split second before a green curse would have landed right on her chest. She would later come to realise that it was the Killing Curse. “Thanks.” She muttered in surprise to the blonde boy, who was helping her up, before ushering her into the castle. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The snake was an evil bastard. Wouldn’t die. Couldn’t be destroyed. Couldn’t be cursed. And Ron and Hermione were finding it really difficult to complete their task. 

It was only when they were pushed up against part of a destroyed wall, fallen on their backs that they truly feared for their lives. Nagini had cornered them, and all they could do was fold themselves into a ball to better protect their vital organs from being punctured by its fangs. 

But the pain never hit them. 

Peeking up from behind their arms, Ron and Hermione noticed that the serpent was no longer in front of them, but a black mist that sprouted faces that resembled its master.  
Neville, they noticed, stood to the side with the Sword of Gryffindor raised in the air. 

The snake was defeated and all that was left was to kill Voldemort. 

“Harry!” Hermione cried, jumping up and running at a speed she didn’t know possessed towards the courtyard where she had last seen the man she loved. 

Voldemort’s followers could feel themselves weakening. Their bond to their master decayed as he was slowly dying. So they fled, just as she thought they would. But left in their departure was a crowd of confused students, professors and Aurors. 

The survivors followed Hermione out to the courtyard, hoping for a swift end to the final battle. 

The sound of rock being blasted by spells and the sound of shouts of those spells sounded out around them. They were close and the battle was close to its end. 

The sight before them was a mess. The castle was in ruins and bodies littered the floor. But what really drew their attention was the two wizards pointing their wands at each other with the Priori Incantatem. A true and powerful connection of magic. 

The survivors all gathered around the spectacle, their faces each wore an expression of exhaustion, excitement and awe.

Voldemort was winning, he was pushing Harry back with the force of his magic. 

“Go on, Harry.” An unknown voice shouted, followed by more shouts of encouragement. The spell broke and the two enemies stared hard at the other. The encouragement egging Harry on. The shouts stopped as the spell died out. The suspense torture. 

“Go on, Harry.” Hermione found herself shouting. Harry turned to look at her. Their eyes connected over the battlefield and the slight smile on her face and the love in her eyes was all that was needed for Harry to push forward, to use all the magic he had in him to defeat the Dark Lord. 

With one last shout of Expelliarmus, Harry turned back around to his enemy and aimed his wand true. The red of the Expelliarmus and the green of the Killing Curse connected once more. The shouts from his friends, his family encouraged him even further. So he stood up from where he was kneeling on the floor, and pushed himself against the force of the magic. 

He could feel the magic in Voldemort weaken as he inched closer and closer until finally, he was stood in front of him, the red light completely engulfing the evil wizard. 

“Love conquers all.” Harry stated to his fallen enemy as Voldemort's skin turned grey and cracked, his face contorting into an expression of pain and surprise, before completely turning to dust. 

Everything stood at a standstill, as they watched the dust of their tormentor float along the floor and rise into the air as the wind blew peacefully over them. The silence was deafening and unnatural for so many bodies surrounded him. But Harry only had one thought on his mind. 

He was finally free. He could finally breathe. 

With a fat, gigantic smile on his face, Harry spun around fast to where he had last seen Hermione. Hazel eyes connected with emerald eyes from across the courtyard, and Hermione too smiled widely, before dashing towards him. Harry followed in her footsteps, sprinting towards her. 

Their audience watched in silence and confusion as the victors darted towards each other. 

Harry and Hermione collided with a painful grunt. Their arms wrapped around each other in a messy entanglement. Their eyes never left the other, wide smiles tuned to grins. Their lips connected. 

A chaste kiss is just a mouth against a mouth, but between Hermione and Harry, their open mouthed kiss grew heavy and passionate quickly. Hermione’s body melted against Harry’s as their lips connected like two puzzle pieces. Harry held her tighter and tighter, his arms squeezing around her waist as Hermione’s arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. It's a wave of warmth that fills Harry up, spilling out from his heart and the warmth of Hermione’s lips on his and rushing to every corner of his body: the space between his toes, the divets of his elbows, the tops of his ears. Every part of him was saturated with love.

With a smack of his lips, Harry leaned back and held Hermione in front of him with a blinding grin on his face. They were oblivious to the crown around them. 

“Marry me?” Harry asked. Hermione smiled so brightly, satellites in space could have seen it. She nodded so fast that she nearly caused herself whiplash. 

“Yes!” She exclaimed before engulfing her now fiance in a bone crushing hug. 

The sound of cheering and clapping around them caused them to separate and appropriately blush. 

It was no longer their little secret. 

Harry gave a short kiss to Hermione’s temple as they stood side by side smiling at their friends and family. After a few moments of congratulatory praises, the hype died down, and reality set in. they still had a castle to clear up and bodies to disintegrate or bury. 

But as the saying goes, there is always good that comes from something bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note - 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who gave this story a read, a kudos or a comment. They mean a lot to writers as it can give a lot of encouragement. 
> 
> This is the end of this story. I had an idea for an epilogue but I think I will leave it here. 
> 
> But please leave a comment. Reviews are greatly appreciated, and you never know, it could persuade me to write another fic. 
> 
> Thank you! 
> 
> KJES x


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